Ivy Towers
by Everythingtralala
Summary: AU: In a city like Chicago, most people keep to themselves. With headphones and screens so accessible, the need for human interaction is minimal. What if there was so much more to the world? What if those same folks on the street were oblivious to the real dangers of ignorance? Sarah Williams will find that beneath the surface of her iron metropolis is a secret underground...
1. Chapter 1

This story is my first AU. I hope you enjoy it!

Based on the movie Labyrinth's characters! Enjoy!

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Headphones have always been a haven. An electronic gift from some higher power. I suppose that would be some hotshot at a place like Samsung, but I digress. They are capable of transporting the wearer into an entirely new world by merely blocking everything else out. Humanity must have looked far and wide for something to provide such a useful tool to aid in isolation. Now, on a train running below Chicago, it's simple.

I push back and slide down comfortably into the blue, plastic seat of overused public transportation benches. I'm sure my raincoat squeaked as it adjusted against itself, but I can't hear more than the sweet sounds melodically pulsing in my head. My arms tightly wrapped around my messenger bag covered in pins. Most of these jingles were either free or donated by friends. It was my displayed collection of unnecessary flair for no reason other than a reminder of another time. A time when I didn't pay for my groceries or taxes and dreaming was the best thing I could do.

The smell of recycled, polluted air was something I have unfortunately now grown accustomed. It was always there to bring me back to the present when my mind wandered. Again, the headphones helped me not overthink about what I was breathing in. I guess I'm thankful that they are not only able to transport me with measured tones, but also a location that has a more pleasant scent and view. I've mastered a pose that produces a form of practical invisibility. I can ignore those who pass by and others who chose to sit next to me until my stop. With the help of a well-placed hood, I am in my own venue.

Why don't I drive? That isn't a long answer, but it is one that I've repeated often. At this point, I'm sure I'm avoiding the test to frustrate my mom more than anything.

"Sarah Williams," My step-mother Karen's shrill voice somehow always found a way to fill my thoughts. "Driving is certainly past the point of a 'right of passage.' This has become a necessity. Nineteen years old and still nothing? Don't you want freedom?"

What she didn't understand was that no one drives when they work and live in the city. The transit system was what delivers most of the inhabitants to their destinations daily. It provides a common ground at those who share the same streets and others who live on the outskirts. It also makes it possible not to pay outrageous prices for a parking spot — a win/win in my broke opinion.

A small chime rang out, and the doors pushed open. I had been seated for the past forty minutes and felt every muscle wake up all at once. Shifting my bag onto my shoulder, I began the migration with my fellow passengers out of the car and up the escalator. It isn't often I compare myself to an animal, but this always felt like being a sheep led to slaughter. Dark? A little.

The steps up to the surface began to grow even damper. Each drop of my boot squeaked onto the wet pavement. I looked up to see the bits of sun peeking out behind grey clouds. Its beams peaked out over the skyscrapers of State Street. The rain certainly didn't keep the area from bursting with life. It was spring after all, and the showers brought practically everyone out of hibernation. There wasn't much that the rain didn't wash away, but the sounds of footsteps always seemed to remain. Overall of them rang out those of a tireless man.

His worn, yet clean clothes were still drying from the last downpour. His heart was beating faster than I ever wanted mine too. It moved him forwards and back again, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day. The shoes he wore looked nothing like those that passed by in ignorant bliss. On the bottom of the creased leather, soles sat several metal plates. When placed in contact with the warped wooden board he had put onto the wet concrete, the melody of "tap, tap, tap" was a gift given freely to uninterested passersby.

The man's thin body spun around as he danced. He flipped into the air, clicking his heels effortlessly. He tried only halfheartedly to gain the attention of those that had better places to be. His bright smile was always going unnoticed. There was still his shadow, and that was more than enough attention for the dancing man I daily made time to visit.

"Good mornin,' sunshine!" His grin shined brighter than the rays trying their best to reach those below.

I pulled one of the "peacekeepers" from my ear. The headphone fell to my shoulder with the cord dripping around my neck. "Hey, Leon." My raincoat hung almost to my knees. My red leggings popped against the yellow protector and hid covered by the black rain boots. My coffee-colored hair was pulled up in an already frizzy, mess of a bun so that I may ignore it. I dug into my bag and pulled out a brown, paper sack. Rough hands took it immediately. Leon slipped his feet back and forth in an excited manner and crinkled his gift. So much noise was never so wildly musical.

"Carrot cake!" He tilted his head and smiled larger than previously. "You certainly do know the way to my heart, Miss Williams." Even though I've known him for two semesters, Leon was a mystery. Not because he didn't want to tell me about himself, but because I guess I never asked. I assumed he was older, but then again, his skin was always so smooth. It was like Father Time forgot about him.

I would never assume anyone's age. I learned long ago that some things were better off being left alone. However, there are times when my train arrives early, and I'm able to talk to him. Every conversation I learn more, and every time we talk, he gets older and older. How had he seen so much? The History Channel? Running my hand over my acne scarred cheek to push back a stray curl and I smiled. His age isn't a piece of information I asked or cared about. It never seemed essential and continues to be useless. He is a guy on the street that makes me smile by his art.

After the first time I took the train into the center of town, he had been right where we were standing now. After living in a small, no-name town for my entire childhood, he was a breath of gifted air. While I would never consider him attractive personally, he was my first 'friend' in a new world.

There were days when he would be surrounded by tourists and commuters alike. He had his own little show. Every time, I would stop and take note of style he possessed; the charisma he exuded. Karen had always warned me about the people who live on the streets, but Leon was different. I studied art, and I know an artist when I see one. There were times I had to ask myself why he didn't continue to further his career. Why stay at this corner? Why continue to live in a life of meager means when his skills could provide more?

Leon always laughed when I would bring it up and tell me with his slight, Jamaican accent, that "This is where I want to be. Those who walk by require a bit of joy. If I can provide that for a brief time, my work was done." What little talks we have are small. There isn't always time between the start of my class and the train arriving at the stop. However, I call him a friend. Friends were something she had, but he was my first in Chicago, so he was my favorite.

I adjusted my bag again. "There was a little stand by my place selling all kinds of pastries." Not that I have much money, but what do have, I am happy to share. "I grabbed a scone I can take to class too, so don't think you're so special." My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. My alarm for class, causing the tingling sensation on my fingertips. "Which, I'm now running late for." Another adjustment and I went to the crosswalk. Waiting was painful, but necessary with the morning traffic.

"Ya, don't want to be late for knowledge! You never know when you're going to need it." He eased over the board and made a simple yet intricate sound; as if to say goodbye in a unique language only he knew. Leon made a big display of opening the paper bag and sticking his hand inside. The broken piece of brown, orange treat that had a delicious cream cheese frosting was held gently at his fingertips. Lifting it to his lips, he stopped short. That's where my turn at the light came, and I walked away.

I suppose the term walk is wrong. I sprinted; bobbing and weaving through businesspeople and students alike. I hated being late to class as it meant I had to sit in the front. Answering questions had to be one of my least favorite things, and those seats were a guarantee for contact with the Professor. It didn't matter the class, that was a "splash zone," and the teacher was a dolphin at a theme park.

Had I stuck around a bit longer with Leon, I would have seen his reaction to the snack I had left with him. I suppose I could have witnessed him smell the cake. Odd, but not uncommon. I would have watched as he pulled it back and then up closer to inspect the finest of details. I probably would have questioned why my friend tossed the brown paper bag down to the wet concrete and yell at him for running after- well, me; without a care in the world for crosswalks and any other prominent signage.

If I hadn't put my headphones back in their rightful place, I maybe would have heard him calling out to me as I rounded the last corner before my building. Perhaps if I had left one headphone out, I could have listened to his voice screaming my name or even the sound of his tap shoes hitting the ground would have gained my attention. I did, in fact, not hear him and I certainly didn't think I would have to hear anyone. Once I passed through the doors of the main building, it wasn't as if anyone could follow. I flashed security my ID and almost fell into the elevator. Another glance at my phone made me roll my eyes. Even with running, I was late.

The glow of the floors each alerting me to their passing seemed to go on for hours until I finally felt the jolt of the metal box stop on the 12th floor. As the doors opened, I slid out as soon as I could and sped down the familiar long, grey hall that was decorated sparsely with projects from students that had done them years before. Towards the end, there was a faux wooden door still propped open. I was late, but not too late.

Once inside the doorway, there was a glimmer of hope. The seat about midway into the group of desks was open, and it called out to me. Typically in classes such as this, there isn't a seating chart. Students sit in one place the first day, and there they remain. The kids in this room didn't follow that rule. Then again, this dolphin was known for picking those in the splash zone, and no one ever wanted to play.

My messenger bag dropped onto the plastic desktop, and I fell into the molded chair. The sound of my collection of buttons scratched the surface. The noise went unnoticed as others only now started to pull their mini-speakers from their ears, and I followed. I then swiftly removed my small Chromebook and plopped it open. Around me, others began to do the same. Some were large, gaming systems, and overall, most looked quite expensive. Either way, they did the job; note taking.

Russian history was dark and rich, filled with murder and uprisings. Not only had there been intense scandals, but it was also happened to fulfill a requirement. I can't say the topic is a considerable interest to me, but it fit my schedule.

"Hello, all." A rounded belly entered the room first followed by the jolly features of Mrs. Beddor. What little hair she had graced the top of her head had turned white long before now. Her thick-rimmed glasses sat low on her slightly bulbous nose. "Are we ready to continue our lesson on the Golden Horde?" She emphasized her words by dropping a stack of books on the podium at the front of the room. As could only be expected from an 8 am class, the class remained unmoved.

"Can't we talk about, Anastasia?" A girl in the far corner piped up. A murmur of agreement moved through the students. This wasn't a new question. Almost every class someone had to ask it and, as always, it was ignored by Mrs. Beddor. Her back turned to the whiteboard, and she began to draw a rough map of Russia. What wasn't in black, she then outlined in red.

"As we began to discuss last week, the 'Golden Horde' had a massive grasp on the Russian lands, but don't forget that there were also the White Horde and Blue Horde." She turned back to us, pushing up her glasses up with her pinky finger. "It was practically a pack of skittles." A chuckle escaped her large chest along with a content sigh, and she turned back to the board. "Genghis Khan had taken over quite a bit and then left it to his son. When his son passed, sadly before himself, it fell to his grandson. This kid, Batu Khan, got to work. Poland. Hungry. All had raided in their campaign."

The Professor continued to drone on, and most of my fellow students had lost interest since before the class had even started. I know I did. I had begun to think about the essay I had due tomorrow for my text analysis class when a low rumble alerted me to something that I had completely forgotten about in my rush for a seat. I slowly moved my hand down to where my bag and been set. Another growl not only caused me to stop my advance, but it also gained a look from the guy who had won the chair next to me. I smiled at the nameless face and quickly pulled out the pastry from my messenger bag

I guess in a rush the paper bag had found its way into the spaces between my Liberal Arts Mathematics book and my old, tattered copy of some Gothic romance I had yet even to start. I feared the worst as peeled back the paper. I quickly looked back around to make sure the crinkles had gone unnoticed by the eager Professor. This lady seemed to live and breathe Russia. I smiled and slowly began to remove the bits of scone that had not wholly crumbled and tossed them into my mouth. Luckily this was a class I didn't know anyone. Any judgments from the others would go unnoticed by me.

Immediately my stomach calmed as the mixture of sweet and citrus danced on my tongue. Another bite and then another, and I was finally feeling satisfied. A movement next to me made my brow furrow, and my hunger has to wait. It was the nameless face boy. Without using words, he looked to my bag and then back up to my eyes. His hand reached in an oddly polite manner for not wanting to speak. I had to admit, Nameless was cute, and I had to give him credit, this was a bold move for a stranger.

I shrugged and smiled, offering the bag in his direction. His plaid button-up looked like it was probably a Hot Topic buy one get one. He reached into the sack and pulled out a handful of pastry dust.

While he did look disheveled, he also looked so as if on purpose. He remained nameless as a small nod showed he finished. I pulled back; taking another handful myself. Within moments, the scone was no more.

"Can anyone tell me," Mrs. Beddor's voice cut through her euphoria. "What made this 'Golden Horde' so bad?'" She sat on the corner of the desk, lazily. This was a question she had always asked at every significant point of history. It seemed she took pride in making the students try and see both sides of the story. As if on cue, she scanned the 'splash zone.'

"It sounds like they were just bullies." A voice from the front of the class finally broke the long awkward silence. Her arrow hit its target. "They took territories and made them weak on purpose. They didn't want them to create an uprising." At this, the Professor pursed her lips and tilted her head. Her hand moved as if to say "so-so."

"Anyone care to debate? A child can be a bully, and yet he doesn't understand the concept of sharing. Can he be taught?" Mrs. Beddor began to pace the front of the room. Her gaze fell across every student in that front row before doing something new. The dark, emerald eyes moved to those a little further and further still. "Know that I'm not on their side. Gangis Khan had been ruthless."

I felt every extra crumb left in my throat. "However," Mrs. Beddor continued. "they were active for quite a while. The Prince's of Russia had to ask permission from and pay the horde. Why?" What I would give for a sip of water right now. I remembered nothing from the week before and reading the text, well, I hadn't. It was then that her gaze landed on me. It was like she could smell the desperation for me anywhere but here.

"There had to have been mutual ground." I croaked out and shoved the paper bag under my laptop. "Why keep anything that long unless provided some assurance of peace?" My voice gave away that I wasn't sure of my answer, and a blush rose to my cheeks.

"Precisely!" My eyes widened in shock as Mrs. Beddor cried in excitement. "Not everything is black and white or good and evil! My friends, we must learn that there is only gray in this world. I suppose you could say that the horde behaved a bit like the Mafia. They provided safety from other countries while being paid to do so. Without this time, Russia wouldn't be where it is now."

"But it ended." Nameless sitting next to me, leaned forward in his seat. "Right? Like, there isn't the Golden Horde anymore. Something had to have happened. So, it didn't stay safe."

Mrs. Beddor grinned wildly. She was genuinely thrilled that not only had two of her students spoken but now a third! Her hands came together. "And it did! The Plague happened to be one of the causes, but also the great Ivan the Terrible." The name sparked a bit of a flickering recognition on the faces of the lifeless faces strewn about the room.

The Professor picked up the marker and rushed to the whiteboard, only to be stopped by an electronic scream. Everyone turned to look at the red box on the wall flashing and continuing its repetitive beeps. Suddenly, all of the students gained energy from almost nowhere and began shoving their belongings into their bags.

"Please, walk." Mrs. Beddor spoke over the fire alarm. We didn't need to be told twice that class was over. Not that our time had ended, but at this point, it would be challenging to dispute all of us. The Professor seemed to have known foolish to have everyone return promptly once the all clear sounds. "Enjoy your day, and please be safe." She called out.

I was among the first groups that drifted down the stairs; joined by more and more floors full of tired eyes and large backpacks. The cry of sirens covered the sounds of our steps. Some of my classmates laughed, and others could care less. I held the railing as I spun from level to level. It didn't take long at all before our mass exited into the lobby. The security guards held open the doors open as we filed out.

I pulled my headphones out of my pocket and placed in one earbud. The weather had turned even bleaker since I had entered the building. While I technically should have waited to be counted for, I was all for having a half day in the city and continued to walk down towards the Harold-Washington Library. When I went to pop in my other earbud, a hand grasped my arm, and my eyes went wide.

Several things could and should have run through my mind: First: Run. Second: What? Finally, third: Scream. I wasn't able to even comprehend any of the three before I found myself pulled in the ally that separated the building from the firemen and police officers that could be of use at a time like this.

It wasn't fear that dictated my next moves, but anger. I struggled against whoever had a grip on me and went to yell but was stopped by a hand covering my mouth. Biting came to mind. The only thing that stopped me from continuing on my rage based reaction was a calm, familiar voice.

"Did you eat it, Miss Williams?" His voice was urgent. "Did you eat the scone?" I was spun around to face an anxious-looking Leon. Confusion now replaced the anger, and I felt my face scrunch up as I tried to piece the last few seconds together. Leon looked as though he had been sweating, but that could have also been from the rain. I pushed back from his grasp and fixed my messenger bag onto my shoulder, leading to a jingle of pins echoing in the ally.

As far as I'm now concerned, Leon was more of an acquaintance. Friend's don't kidnap friends, do they? My mind raced, thinking about how well I knew him. I suppose only slightly better than the barista from the Dunkin across from my apartment. It was only a little more because I knew his favorite hobby. Well, unless the barista's favorite pastime is coffee making.

With that thought, I felt anger slip back into my emotional well being. Leon had no business touching me, let alone dragging me into a dark space. He had asked me a question. What was it? About the scone? Within the madness, my hair had begun falling from my bun. I was already upset; no need to be more annoyed. I began to fiddle with it; fixing it as best as I could, but was too frustrated to do much. "What about it?" There was a crowd gathered. I'm sure all I have to do is scream and boom. I'm no longer in danger.

Leon reached forward and gripped my upper arm again, having all of my hair fall to my shoulders. I let out a yelp and tried to pull back. So much for screaming.

Before I could say anything, he pushed up my sleeve and inspected the red ring that had started to form at the base of my wrist. The dark strands that had fallen now framed my look of curiosity. I had forgotten entirely the earbud I had placed until also fell onto my chest. "What is this?" A weak voice shook out; nearly inaudible over the surrounding commotion. I blinked. That voice was mine.

Leon started to reach for my other arm, but as he did, I brought it up myself. I pulled back the raincoat sleeve and watched as drops from the sky fell onto the red of an identical ring. It looked as though it had been burned into my flesh years before. I inspected it closer. "What is it?" My gaze momentarily flickered the man who still wore musical shoes.

"We need to go." Instead of gripping any part of me as he had, Leon placed a gentle hand on the small of my back. A force from his touch pushed me deeper into the alleyway towards the light at the other side. That seemed to be the opposite of where we should be going, so I stopped.

"There are police there." I pointed towards the dissipating group of students. "This isn't right. They can maybe take a look and see if it's a reaction. It may just be an allergy. Aren't they trained to know this kind of stuff?" Why was I asking him? He was no friend. I shook my head and turned, walking to the safety of a crowd again.

My ears met the sound of metal scratching pavement as Leon ran in front; stopping me in my tracks. "It isn't an allergy. It's a bond." He was becoming frustrated. Good. He deserved to be. A glance at his watch and his arms lifted into the air. "Ya know what. I've done what I can."

"What you can?" What had he done? Pull me into an ally? Almost kidnap me? Then, suddenly, it made sense. What had he been doing outside of the building? We are nowhere near his corner. "You pulled the alarm?" Not so much an accusation as it was a realization.

"And they are most certainly looking at whatever cameras they have and will be putting out an APB for someone of my height, weight, color momentarily. If you don't want to come with me, so be it. However, I cannot protect you if you are far from me, and I don't plan on staying here." He turned and began to walk briskly toward the end of the brick sided street.

"Protect me?" He had used the word 'bond' before. Another look at the safety behind showed the students that had remained began to file back into the now silent building. The all-clear rang out, and classes would resume as usual for those that stayed. My gaze followed the tapping steps that echoed further and further away. "Protect me from what exactly?" Leon threw his arms up again to acknowledge me but was a show that he was unwilling to yell back an answer.


	2. Chapter 2

The bands that enclosed around each of my wrists started to tingle. It felt like tiny bugs were moving up through each layer of skin. I shook the thought and let my fingertips absentmindedly touch the foreign flesh. I had to sort through the information that I knew quickly. Leon was no more than a glorified stranger. I honestly can't believe I had used the word 'friend.' It was silly of me and noted for future meetings. However, if he could tell me what was going on with my body, it would be more than I could do on my own.

"Wait!" I pulled the headphones off my shoulders and shoved them into my pocket. My messenger bag shifted, the echoes of my boots splashing in puddles drifted through the brick tunnel. "What do you mean to protect?" He spun and caused me to stop short of running into him.

Lifting his arm, Leon glanced again at his watch. "We are going to be late, Miss Williams." His grasp on my sore wrist was considerably more gentle than before. Did he know it was growing more intolerable as time passed? For a brief moment, I worried about how the scene looked. A man dressed in slightly tattered apparel pulling a college girl down the street wasn't something seen every day, was it? I mean, I was hoping for someone to say something before, but now, I needed him.

I slipped my hand down to hold his before we joined the masses of State Street. There was no need to cause any more chaos. Now we looked like any other artistic couple out on a rainy day. Leon looked down to our interlocked fingers, which caused me to give a nervous smile. I was trusting a random guy. Karen would kill me.

City block after city block passed before we made it to the La Salle Blue Line stop. It was at the top of the dark stairway leading to the trains that he released his grip. He sped down the stairs, and I followed, reaching him in time to see him jump over the turnstile. My eyes widened, and I looked to see if anyone had noticed. There was no one.

He was gone; down another long set of stairs almost instantaneously, and I was alone with the now stinging sensation at my wrists. For someone wanting to help, he certainly seemed to want to be far away from me. I fumbled for my UPass and scanned it; the turnstiles easily let me through. Unlike my acquaintance, I decided to take the escalator down, using the time to massage my wrists.

I followed the tapping of Leon's shoes towards the center of the platform at the end of my ride. He was pacing near a man who was in his world tuning his warped guitar. Exhausted, I groaned and sat on the bench near them. My neighbor was an abandoned newspaper and an old Starbucks cup. Now was a perfect time to inspect the cause of this trip truly.

I rolled my sleeves up and looked at what once seemed like faded scars that now sat raised; like fresh burns. I blew softly to try and calm the inflamed skin. "Do they hurt?" I hadn't heard him walk up, but Leon stopped in front of me and kneeled to get a better look. I nodded as not to break a calm that had fallen between us. A few 'tisks' escaped him as he studied my wounds. "They look like they should be done soon, Miss Williams." He lifted his wrist again to check the time. I caught myself trying to look for similar marks on him, but there was nothing.

"Why do you keep calling me 'Miss Williams?'" Did kidnappers usually call their kidnapees by their surname? Leon shifted and ignored yet another of my questions. I groaned and bit my lower lip in frustration. The speaker came to life, and a familiar metallic, recorded voice filled the void.

"Attention customers: An inbound train, toward the Loop, will be arriving shortly."

As I had absentmindedly been taught to do, I started to stand and prep myself for squeezing between fellow commuters. I always had after such an announcement. Leon's hand fell to my shoulder and plopped me right back down. "That's not us." His voice was calm but held a kind of authority I hadn't thought part of his demeanor. He was only a street performer after all. He moved his touch to my sleeves and covered the angry bands back up.

"Are we going away from the city?" Curiosity drove me to speak. "To Forest Park?"

Leon ran his hand over his short hair and shook his head. "There's no reason for you to be rushing when you've no idea where we are going."

I laughed, which caused him to glare. "I mean, kinda?" I lifted my wrists, letting the coat fall a bit to show the tops of the angry marks. "Normally I would be at a doctor getting help by now. I think this is rush worthy." Another look at his watch told me he didn't consider it as much of an emergency as she did.

It wasn't often someone treated like a child since moving to the city, and it wasn't exactly something I missed. Since my father had died, Karen went into overdrive on the whole "wicked step-mother" thing. Annoyingly so with the amount of detest she showed me. She was like a helicopter parent whose sole purpose was to keep me from fun while at the same time wanting me out of her hair. Another look at the bands told me Leon had been right again; they weren't getting worse. "What if my throat closed up? It could just be an allergy."

A familiar chime caused me to fall from my thoughts once the train, headed to O'Hare, pulled into the station. The doors opened on the aluminum capsules, and a small crowd drifted past like zombies. It was a slow process as they made their way to the tall escalator and up to the city above. Another chime and the train was gone.

A moment passed, and we were once again alone with the guitarist. I stood with my hands on my hips. "I need a doctor, Leon, not a mildewy blue line station. Thank you so much for all of the fun but," A screeching of metal came down the track. It echoed through the platform like nails on a chalkboard. Leon, again, looked at his watch and pushed me closer to the yellow line that marked a safe space for commuters to stand. The incoming transport was a train that hadn't yet been announced as the others had. A gust of wind caused my loose hair to thrash and coat to billow as the train passed and slowed.

The same tune played, and the aluminum doors that looked like every other CTA train opened. Peering into the windows, I saw that only a few people of various ages and classes sat calmly. A balding man in a blue suit had his legs crossed and a book in hand. There was a girl dressed in all black with a bag similar to my own, standing and leaning against the plexiglass that was at the entrance to each door. Two children rested their heads on their mother, who had her arms wrapped over them protectively. I was broken from my concentration by a push that forced me to join my fellow people of Chicago. The doors sang once more before closing with Leon ushering me to a seat towards the far end of the car.

It appeared to be like any other "L" line train. There was the same jerk as it began its trip down the same path it always took. If I had been standing, I probably would have grabbed a metal pole that was a standard fixture among all similar modes of transportation. With each stop, the voice above echoed their arrival, and the doors sang their song. Nothing was different except that the wheels needed a little bit of grease and the platforms required to update their schedules.

I put my hands on my knees and lifted myself from my seat as the train came to its next stop. Division was the last station before it broke from the underground tunnels, and I was beginning to feel like this was some kidnapping that I willingly accepted. Leon tilted his head quizzically. "Where are you going, Miss Williams?"

The doors slid open, and I stepped closer to them. "I can't go with you. I'm not hurting anymore and these things," I lifted my hands with my coat sleeves falling enough to show the tops of the wounds once again. "-are probably just a reaction from me buying something at a random cart. I've learned my lesson. No more strangers. Thank you." With that, Leon jumped from his seat and pressed his hand over my mouth. My eyes practically bugged out of my skull, and I tried to push him away. The doors closed and I pushed even harder. The pressure of the train starting back up worked against me, and my body pressed into his further. I suppose if I had not felt fighting was my only hope, I probably would have noticed Leon grow tense and shift his gaze to our audience.

Those in the car watched with wild eyes. Their curiosity was peaked. Not from the display of me thrashing against the tall, dark stranger. No, they looked like they were interested in the words I had used. I was slowly realizing in my rage that no one was rushing to my aide. My body was growing tired, and so I stopped thrashing. Without thinking to do it, I had resorted to glaring at the concerned features of my kidnapper.

I ignored the lights in all of the cars flickering off. Surrounded by darkness, my glare continued. I blinked as Leon leaned in closer. His voice was tight with worry and demand. "If you do not calm yourself now, I can't guarantee your safety."

A loud crash and the cry of what sounded like twisting metal pulled me from my emotions; I looked around for the cause. The lights fluttered back to life, and the train continued on its course. I realized now that there were still no familiar announcements that were always present during an unusual event. The CTA was really off their game today. I continued standing, my arms crossed over my chest, and Leon removed his hold on my face.

"I'm calling the cops as soon as I have cell service," I whispered. Leon ignored me, his attention on those around us.

There was a small hiss that peaked my ears, and I looked to see what had broken. What more could they go on without announcing? Flowing in from the cracks of the doors was shimmering, black liquid. I watched as it lapped up next to my boots and gasped as it began to fill the bottom of the ridged, car floor. Whatever allergic reaction this was, it was tripping me out, and I wanted off. Leon, however, continued to stand calmly. He watched with his hand holding tightly to the strap above as the train picked up speed.

The level of the strangely viscous fluid continued to rise quickly, and so did my blood pressure. The liquid made it halfway up my calf, and I could feel the cold through even the thick vinyl of my boot. I fell into a seat and looked to Leon for some reassurance. His gaze that I followed was on the other passengers. My head tilted as they were all now looking at me. "Looking" isn't the word I want to use here. I think the word best to describe it was-_waiting_? Like they were on the edge of their seat for me to do something crazy. I needed a doctor.

The fluid was to Leon's knees now and began to come up to touch my waist at the seat. It was much colder without the protection of the boot, and I began to shiver. My captor's calloused hand dipped into its dark surface. He lifted the seemingly syrupy substance so it was in front of me and I watched as it fell back into the rising pool. His palm was as dry; perhaps painfully so.

"What is it?" My teeth chattered together; my voice was softer than I had intended it. The longer I looked at the stuff, the more I could see. Within its rising depths, moving specks of light. It was like looking at a clear night sky. The thought of purposefully reaching out and touching it as Leon had was too much. I kept my arms tight against my chest; reserving any heat I could.

Struck with the terrible sensation that I couldn't breathe, I felt as if my entire existence was coming to an abrupt end. While that is a little dramatic, I've seen enough SVU to know when I'm going to be a statistic. For the first time since the dark substance began to flood in, I released my grip. I fell back into the chair, and my arms went to my side. "My phone," I whispered to no one by myself. I removed the device from my pocket as quickly as I could and pulled it out of the liquid. It was as dry as Leon's hand had been. A whimper of fear that I realized came from me, alerted Leon to my doings.

The phone was dead. It hadn't been before our little fun day on the blue line. It couldn't have been dead so soon. I repeatedly tried to turn it on over and over looking for a different outcome. The liquid rose higher and higher, and my frantic button pushing grew more and more desperate. "Stop that." Leon tried to grab my lifeline, but I pulled it away. The substance wrapped around me as I hurried to a seat a bit further from him. I'm cold, I'm sure I'm turning blue, but I had to try.

"I need to call my mom...or my brother, I need to tell them I'm ok." Calling my Karen was never at the top of my to-do list, but if this was the end, I needed to say my goodbyes.

It wasn't until I saw that he turned to view those joining us in the car clued me into why he was trying to take away my phone. I looked again at the commuters, and none of them had moved. It would make sense that if Leon and I could see the liquid, so could they. None of them were freaking out. I didn't ride the blue line often, but I don't think any of this is typical for our route. The children that had been sitting with their mother were covered entirely, and yet the woman seemed more concerned with what was going on with me.

Better the devil you know than the one you don't. I looked worriedly to Leon. "Am I going crazy?" He took the opportunity to take the device from my trembling hands and place it in his pocket.

"Just breathe, Miss Williams." His voice was as reassuring as kidnappers could be. I hadn't noticed until it was too late, as I searched him for some answer I didn't know I had asked a question to, that the liquid now covered us both completely.

* * *

I know! I posted pretty soon after the first. I've been working on this story for a while, and I hope you're enjoying it. I was trying it as something different, and at the end of the day realized I should do it as a fanfic. Why not?

I hope you're enjoying it!

xoxo 


	3. Chapter 3

My lungs screamed. I released the trapped air that I had subconsciously been holding. The dark liquid perfumed and covered the unfortunate smell of public transportation with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. My mouth was not overcome like I was expecting. My body reacted and inhaled deeply; my eyes closed tightly, and I took a moment to analyze all parts of my body. Was it still there? My limbs and all of my senses still working Was I still alive?

I continued to shake uncontrollably. That was a bright, neon sign that I wasn't dead yet. There were tiny, fizzy bombs bursting on my skin, creating an almost pleasant feeling. If the scene before hadn't been horrifying, I may have enjoyed it. Another inhale of the sweet scent, and my eyes opened. The sparkles I had seen in the liquid, the little pieces of starlight, surrounded me like thousands of small constellations. The harsh CTA lighting was tinted a dull purple, as was everything else in the car.

The rumbling of the wheels on the track became enhanced, a low frequency throughout the space. Through the window across from me, lights passed as quickly as ever. I looked up at Leon.

He was watching me, studying me for probably _more_ of a reaction. Perhaps it was my lack of one that confused him. I blinked rapidly and my brow furrowed. The man I had known on the street was always slightly disheveled. He wasn't dirty, but he certainly didn't look as though he was well off. His features had always been soft and friendly. It made him approachable. It could have been the light or the shimmers surrounding them, but now, he looked dangerous.

His nose came to a sharp point; as did his ears and chin. The clothes he wore were trimmed and fit close to his body. Gone were the ratted jacket of an artist. A blazer covered his top while everything was specific to his build. I looked behind him to see if anyone else had noticed an abrupt change in a fellow traveler. I didn't mean to, but a gasp escaped and echoed through the substance. Not that it mattered. All eyes had already on me.

This small sound caused the once sleeping children to lift their heads. Instead of the sweet faces that they should have been, they had become contorted, wart-covered beings who snarled in my direction. Every single person I had taken note of before now caused my heart to pound so hard I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. My hand fell to my chest, and I took deep breaths.

These were no longer people but creatures. The bald man I had seen when we entered was gone. Instead, what looked like an 8-foot tall monster took up an extra seat to each side. That alone caused my head to rush. Leon leaned down and tugged my sleeve that had begun to fall, but I pulled away. An unfortunate move for both us. I felt the liquid shift. My head shot back towards the others, and I felt my throat tighten. So much for screaming. What good was fight or flight when you could do neither?

Leon sighed and turned; greeted by the warm breath of the troll that had moved from his seats to lean closer to us at the far end of the car. A giant, puss covered finger was pointed straight at me. I didn't think my eyes could get any wider then they had today, but here we were. Giant saucers as the putrid stench of rotting flesh bombarded my still working senses.

"You've got yourself a _keptling_, Leonis?" The drifting smell of death overwhelmed the area. Of course, a monster wouldn't have personal hygiene. A dentist would have a field day with the smile that grinned in my direction. My stomach turned, yet Leon smiled through. The thick finger made its way to the now-pointed man's shoulder. "She's ain't been marked as yours yet."

Still surrounded by the purple haze of liquid, I searched for the cinnamon smell. The troll-like being looked a dark yellow-green and also, quite furious. "I thought I would take the keptling to Warden Jareth." Leon, or Leonis, said. "I could hardly mark her above without his permission considering my state." His voice was more formal than it had ever been when they spoke, but still contained a hint of his native accent. Everything about him now seemed refined.

A guttural laugh from the massive beast caused the rest of the creatures to join in. "You and your_ rules._" He thundered, pushing Leon to the side. I felt the scared, infected hand pull me from my hold on Leon's blazer. He shoved my sleeve up to the point that it pinched the delicate skin near my elbow. Again, fear left me ultimately. All I could do was watch and let tears fall down my face to join the substance surrounding us. "These are fresh, green bonds. Couldn't wait, could-ya, Leonis? So sure she will survive the passage _unmarked_? She's going through quite a few changes, ya know." The gnarled teeth in his smile seemed out of place with the sparks of diamonds that still floated around us. I winced as the pain, and sickening breath of the creature holding me began to irritate the bands. "I could fix it for ya. Make sure she is safe from the glamour. Ease her-transition."

My eyebrows shot up as I notice him stop all movement and growl deep in his barreled chest. It seemed odd for the creature to stop his taunting for no reason. That was until I saw a new shine flicker in the dim light of his eyes. A sliver of silver brushed past my shoulder. A long knife, a sword, the length of my forearm was lying at the base of the troll's throat.

"Lincoln. Your wife wants you home for dinner, doesn't she?" I looked back to Leon and tilted my head. Was this the same guy?

"A butter knife doesn't frighten me, child." The creature named 'Lincoln' faced his attention solely on Leon, releasing his hold on my wrist. I had thought myself sane up until confronted with these nightmares, so I rushed to the seat and pulled my hood up around me.

"There are hundreds of ways to access keptlings. You can't find your own?" Leon removed the sword and placed it at his side, but not away. The train jerked and slowed rapidly; coming to a stop. I gripped the edge of the seat as the two continued to speak, unphased.

Lincoln grumbled low. "I don't have that kind of money."

"And I'm sure you don't want to risk your family by defying the laws you mock so easily," Leon smirked. "Then how could you care for this one? How could any of you?" Leon motioned to the creatures who, in turn, looked away. I saw that the girl in all black now looked more fish than human. My stomach did flips.

The chime that came with the opening of the doors seemed to end the tension, and a rush of liquid vacated the car. I gripped the pole that sat near the middle of the aisle, not wanting to leave as well. I didn't know when he moved back to me, but the once tap-dancing acquaintance was now at my side.

"Don't take a-" He had begun, but too late. I took a deep breath to try and calm, shot nerves. Instead, I was greeted by my lungs, failing. I let go of the pole and fell onto the hard, train floor. I wretched and felt my body contorting as the air seemed to escape every reach for it I tried to take. All Leon did was watch. I looked to him for answers, but I only saw pity.

Lincoln had stated that I was going through a transition, that I may not make it through a 'passage.' Puberty wasn't pretty, but this was worse. There were so many questions I wanted to ask if I could breathe! Hadn't I been told to do that all along?

The doors sang, and in a moment they would close. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that I didn't want to stay on for another ride. My body was mid-convulsing when I felt strong arms wrap around me. Leon moved swiftly, and I found myself tossed over his shoulder. I suppose to the mean looking creatures around this could be seen as some conquest. I let out a large dollop of the purple and black star-speckled liquid when the force of his shoulder made itself known to my stomach. It made a splat, and I groaned.

I heard his once metal shoes, now sounding softer, hit the platform. The soothing noise became quickly masked by my coughs and heaves. All of those from the train had already started their way up the tall, spiral-stone staircase. I felt Leon adjust me like I had done my bag so many times, but it only caused me to wretch again. Worrying about where my bag went in all of this mess would have to wait until I was able to breathe, let alone think.

With each step, Leon took up the staircase came the splat of liquid behind. There was no real way of telling how much more I had in me. It was a never-ending cascade. By the time we reached the top, I was at least able to get a little bit of air. My body hung slack by the amount of energy I had spent. Between the monsters and coughing, there won't be much left of me whenever we reach where we needed to go.

I turned my head and saw a world upside down. Blinking to get it to focus, I began searching a city built from the scraps of the past. I started coughing hard again as my breathing increased out of fear. Leon patted my back. There were creatures everywhere! There were the ones from the train, sure, but there were new ones. The amount of tall or short, stick-like or mountainous was shocking. Others were green, and some were blue, some were in the sky flying up to met rock lined with wires and cables burrowing into nests. There were a few that I don't feel all that comfortable categorizing in my state. Whatever they are, they were all nightmarish.

Struggling against Leon was pointless, but I was able to lift myself enough to turn the world right side up again. My mouth fell slack. There were shops like we were on Michigan Avenue! But inside where odd goods and the families leaving might as well have been villains from a children's book. At each corner stood a large creature covered in stone and iron made armor.

They looked like statues at first, until one moved. The orange gem eyes watched on as a small group of imp looking children threw a ball back and forth. Considering the amount of liquid I had pass through me, I was suddenly parched.

"They are Watchers, Miss Williams?" Leon said, having followed my gaze. "Every jail needs its guards."

I fell back down and let myself hang. "And this is where you brought me? All I needed was a doctor, and now I'm lost in a bad dream."

Leon laughed low. "I'm taking you to help, Miss Williams. In the meantime, I'm going to need you to keep quiet. They are quite sensitive to any struggle." He motioned to the rock people with glowing eyes.

Well, there was no need to alert the 'police.' That didn't stop the questions running through my mind. I swung back and forth as we walked across what looked like a type of square. There was a fountain to the side with a gnome-like creature sculpted into his face spitting into the sky. I knew the feeling.

"Are you gonna give me _any_ info, or am I going to have to connect dots?" I whispered loud enough for him to hear.

"Excuse me?" He nodded to a family of sizeable eared folk as if he had his daily groceries over his shoulder.

"Like, where are we? Where are we going? Am I dead? These bonds, what are they?" The list could go on, but before I knew it, I slid off his shoulders. My shaky knees were now responsible for holding me up, and I didn't trust them. I faltered and caught myself by gripping onto his blazer.

"Will you settle for quick answers? We don't have much time." I nodded. He moved his hand down and entwined his fingers in mine before pulling me along. Again, like a couple to those who would see us from afar. "You are in Azurite. A city of the Underground.

"Goblins, trolls, elves, really any being you may consider 'fantasy' can find themselves here. There are other cities like it. If someone breaks the law or angers the wrong people, they get sent to one of closest to their kingdom. It's a death sentence for most, but a long one. Think of it as death row."

My body was tired. I listened to Leon, but I dragged behind. It took him a moment to realize he needed to slow his pace. "The train was a passage through a large glamour that keeps it hidden from your world."

"How has no one found this place?" That seemed unbelievable. Not more than a fantasy kingdom, but I was trying to process as much as I could in the short time I had.

"It is long and the few that _do_ rarely make it." This Leon was a far cry from the fun dancer from outside of the red line stop. He seemed harder; darker. "Its why it's important for someone of your kind to be bonded and marked." From what I understood by the bits of conversation I had been witness to, I was only one of those two crucial, life-saving things, but not both. I released his hold and stopped at the edge of the square. Leon spun quickly. His eyes darted around, and he again offered his hand before meeting my glare.

"So, I could have died."

"I said short answers." He stepped closer, hand still out. "We need to get you inside now."

"No. You said you were going to help me and instead you put me in a risky situation. Maybe I should tell one of your 'Watchers.'"

I heard a rumble next to me and turned. The two closest Watchers had moved to look straight towards us. I froze. The police I had known were friendly, kind souls who often would make jokes and laugh. These 'Watchers' were far from any of the officers I had met. Without looking for it, I took his hand, and he pulled me forward, waving at the stone guardians lining the square.

"You're alive, aren't you?" His voice gave away that he was annoyed. "A life in Azurite as a Keptling isn't a life at all. If I had marked you, you would be here until you were too old to work, and then you would be disposed of."

Keptling. That's a word that rang a bell. Lincoln had used it on the train. I went to ask more but once again found myself pulled into an ally. It was becoming a habit and one that I didn't enjoy. On the far end, near a large pipe, sat a relatively unpretentious door. I felt fear for the umpteenth time today. The jagged pieces of wood nailed haphazardly together grew sharper as we stepped closer. The size of it hardly left enough room for a child to fit, let alone this tree that stood next to me. Leon knocked.

When there was no answer, he removed his hold on my hand and pushed open the creaky door. He peered into the dark space. Shelves were covered with more dust than they were novels. A table, filled with dirty bowls and one soot-covered book, took up most of the space.

"Hello?" He called into the room. The embers in a corner fireplace sat popping, which was the only sign of life. "I'm looking for, Tadhg?" Leon stepped inside and pulled me with him. Add breaking-and-entering to a long list of new things today.

Our answer came in the form of a crash of pots that sat by the dying fireplace. I stepped back in time to avoid the flying assailant from the side. The startle was brief for both of us as sharp claws dug into Leon's shoulder and made their way to his angular cheek.

He took hold of the growling creature piercing deep into his flesh. The mixture of the two supernatural beings bellowing and crying was startling and something beyond animalistic. His attacker moved to his back, each claw cutting more profound than the last. Leon's hand met with a patch of soft, greasy looking fur to try and pull him away. "Get off!" He called.

"Get out!" The small beast replied.

Leon pushed against the wall, causing one of the claws that glided down his back to crush further into his skin under his weight. A whine again called into the mess of a room. The pointed man took this break in the needle-like-tips finding his fresh skin to pull the creature off and tossing it to the floor.

It was a dog. Well, to an extent. The bone structure was undoubtedly that of a terrier. Its muzzle had been extended kind of like a fox, and the tale was bushy like a fancy cat. The fur was sporadic like it had mange. It looked more hairless than anything. What it lacked in organic cover, it hid by a tattered, gold-embroidered housecoat. Long whiskers fell to the sides like an older man would keep a mustache. Golden eyes placed under hooded brows inspected Leon from the ground.

"What do you want?" It barked. His long, blood tipped paws clasped his injured leg. He was pained and continued to stay down. Leon pulled off his torn blazer and tossed it onto a nearby chair. A plume of dust rose into the humid air like a mushroom.

"I'm looking for Tadhg." Leon walked to me and looked me over as if I was the one who had just been attacked. All of this was so much for one day. I didn't realize I was staring at the feisty, talking animal growling from his space on the floor. "I heard this is where I could find him." The creature began to cackle.

"Tadhg is dead and has been for years." His boney hand gripped the edge of the table for stability, and he stood. He broke barely two feet tall at his full height. Ribs showed at the top of his coat on a bare chest that did little to hide each breath. A cough interrupted his laughter. "What would you want with him, anyway?"

Leon made sure to check that my coat covered my red wrists before turning away again. "I had a question that I see now has no one who can answer it." A quick moment of silence as he adjusted his ripped shirt. He looked over his wounds, and I saw him assessing the damage.

"I should call the Watchers in." Another cackle left the small beast's throat. "Can you picture it? 'The Great Leonis breaks into an unsuspecting household! Thief! Murderer!' Papers would fly from the shelves." Leon turned rigid.

"Murderer? That certainly would have made this easier."

Nails scratching across old wood were slow but solid behind him. "I'm assuming what you need has something to do with the mortal?" He began cleaning up the books that had slid across shelves in their struggle. "Throw her in the river and be done with her. That should do it. No sense taking on an extra mouth with your reputation." Leon stepped towards the door and took my hand; ignoring the fox terrier. A low growl from behind stopped him before we could step out of the wooden barrier once more. "Tadhg may be dead, but unfortunately his assistant is still here." He glanced over at the two and grumbled; moving more and more books.

"So, you will help? You can fix it?" Leon was hopeful. The creature in front of him shook his head, and grinned.

"I'm a _familiar_. Tadhg's, which is regrettable." He jumped from one shelf to another before finally settling at the end of a tilted case. He pulled out a blue-covered book and blew over its cover. "What I lack in magic, I can show others how to use their own. Not that it works very well in this place." He tossed the book to Leon, who caught it before it made contact with his chest. Leon released my hand and closed the door behind us. He then stepped to the cluttered table and set the book down. I've never seen someone flip through a book as quickly as he was. I wrapped my arms around my chest and held myself tightly. The sooner this was over, the better.

"Why are you helping us?" My voice was hoarse as I spoke up. But my mind was racked with so many questions I had to get one of them out. This dog was a beast that was attacking us one moment, saying I should be thrown in the river after and now he is kind? It didn't add up.

"You're with the '_Great_ Leonis.'" The creature mocked again, studying us both. "And _you_ an unmarked Keptling. The wrists and that faint, minty smell you have-Leonis is breaking the rules!" A toothy grin pulled the long whiskers further up his furred cheeks. "I'm interested."

Leon looked back to me, his eyes immediately locking on my sleeves which had been pushed down a bit to show the angry marks. He stood tall and stepped away from the book. "I am here on Warden Jareth's behalf."

A breathy laugh from the wounded creature seemed somehow inappropriate, yet there it was. "Then show me your warrant." Claws again scrapped across the ground as he started to make his way closer to me. "You don't get sent into peoples homes on the Warden's behalf without one."

"I've never needed a warrant." Leon scoffed. He could easily kick the being across the room at this distance, so why didn't he? An animal has never made me feel this uncomfortable before, and I didn't like it.

"Is _that_ why you barge into unsuspecting citizens homes as if its second nature? Haven't we lost enough? Our freedom? Our dignity?" A quick turn and the fox was on the table, blue book back in his hands. "If you want this work, you bring not only a warrant but Jareth himself. That Fae," He spat the word out as if it were a curse. "is so far from removed from his hostages we are nothing but dirt. I was something great once. A knight. Now, an assistant to a dead pixie."

Leon laugh. "You, me, her… we are all here for a reason. We all made choices."

"Hey!" I barked. "I was thrown into this. It's not like I actually had a choice."

"Did you have to eat the scone?" Leon raised his brow with the question. Technically, no, but he hadn't been in class when my stomach rumbled and-Nameless. I fell into a nearby, dust-covered chair and grew silent. Was that nameless boy going through this trouble? What if Lincoln found him?

The fox hissed. The sound of the leather binding being ripped into by angry claws joined the sound of his tone of frustration and anger. "Bring me Jareth, and you can save your mortal, from whatever doomed life she will lead. You may do so with my gracious help."

* * *

I hope this isn't too confusing for you and that you're enjoying it! I am!  
Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows! I am so happy to have you along for the ride!  
Don't get too use to these coming out so quickly. I wanted to throw in a few more characters before going on a schedule.

Thank you again and I hope you're having a great week!  
-Everything-


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